


A Poetic Outburst

by squidgie



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Poetry, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26199838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidgie/pseuds/squidgie
Summary: Set when Dex, Nursey, and Chowder are seniors, they all three decide to take a class together. It's a "Poetry Appreciation" class, which Nursey said they would ace.  What he didn't tell them was that they'd have to come up with a poem of their own for class.
Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 82





	A Poetic Outburst

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this poem](https://images.squidge.org/images/2020/08/30/poem.jpg) that I found on Google one day. The poem is definitely not mine, just the 1050ish words around it.
> 
> Also, there is also artwork of these two plus the poem over on Tumblr [at this link](https://squidgiepdx.tumblr.com/post/627908858466205696/this-is-based-on-a-short-poem-that-is-not-mine-i) if you're interested.

Dex had grown used to fighting over the years, but when he heard his name called, his first reaction was to run. 

His chair screeched an awful noise as it scooted against the linoleum floors, and he turned to stare into the owner of the beautiful green eyes that had gotten him into this mess. Nursey had vowed before their sophomore year that he, Dex, and Chowder would take a class together before they graduated. And as it was the last semester of classes before they all went their separate ways – Dex into some sort of engineering field, Nursey into a publishing internship that would give him time to write, and Chowder, no doubt, signed on with one of the NHL teams that had been courting him for the last few months – Nursey had talked them into taking a poetry appreciation course. “It’s chill. An easy A,” he’d declared.

Dex enjoyed spending time with his two best friends, so why not? It even gave him time to watch Nursey in his element, something he dearly loved doing. Sure, it did nothing but feed his hidden crush on his fellow D-man, but the closer that graduation came, the more Dex knew he was going to miss this infuriatingly irritating man that he’d been attached to the hip to for the last four years.

And the class had sounded fair enough, just some sharing of poetry readings and analyzation that Nursey said he would help with, that the three of them agreed. But in the first class, the professor startled Dex out of that warm blanket of a daydream by stating that each person would have to write and discuss one poem in order to pass.

Nursey had calmed his and Chowder’s nerves and even went first when the time came. Even made it look so easy that Dex had calmed down ever so slightly. But now, weeks later, with his name still echoing off the lofty lecture room walls, he panicked. “What do I do?” he whisper-screamed to Nursey as he ignored Chowder, who had the biggest smile on his face.

“Dude, I _know_ you’ve been doodling in your notebook. Some of that shit’s _good_.”

Dex reconsidered running, stopped only when the professor again asked, “Mister Poindexter?”

Sure, Dex had been doodling in his notebook. There were a lot of hockey plays that he’d been considering. And then there was one of the most complicated ‘for’ programming loops proposed in COMP451 that had frustrated him so much, he’d doodled it as a character, then drew him standing over it with a baseball bat.

Nursey grabbed his notebook and flipped to the back, where all his doodles and attempts were hidden. “Just go read one of those,” he said.

Dex sighed as he hung his head, the tips of his ears as pink as his face was warm, and wandered down to stand next to the professor. He didn’t want to do it, but he knew he had to. Knew he had to keep up his grades because his family would be so proud of him graduating with the highest of honors. So he walked down the stairs with the same posture as a person walking to the gallows, and secretly wished for the same fate. It would be more welcoming than opening himself up to the whole class. “Miss Cortano, I don’t…” he said.

The professor looked at him down the bridge of her nose, somehow making him feel like a first-grader who’d accidentally called the teacher ‘Mom.’ “Nonsense,” she said, then reached out and took his notebook.

As the silence stretched, Dex wished for a hole to open up on the dais and swallow him. “They’re all in the back,” he said as the professor read through a few entries, licking the tip of her thin, delicate fingers before turning each page.

“ _Oh_ ,” she said quietly, then turned to Dex. “Oh my.” She handed the notebook back, then tapped a well-manicured finger against the side of the page. Dex looked, his face instantly flushing. 

“That’s-” he started. What the professor had pointed to wasn’t even a poem. It was just something Dex had written once when he was at Annie’s, watching Derek charm the barista with some story.

“ _Read it_ , Mister Poindexter,” she ordered.

And because he was a little bit afraid of her, he did. He cleared his throat, then absolutely did _not_ look at Nursey as he recited the words that had tumbled out of his head and onto the page that day. The words that explained just what Derek had meant to him, though he’d never be able to say them to his face.

> _Some days_
> 
> _He is the poet._
> 
> _Some days_
> 
> _My poetry._

The room was utterly silent, save the sound of a pencil dropping. Dex looked up in time to see Derek staring down at him, his pencil rolling to a stop at his feet.

“You may sit down, Mister Poindexter,” the professor said. 

You didn’t have to tell Dex twice. He was back up the few steps as fast as he could, stopping only to grab Derek’s pencil. And when he handed it back, Derek took the pencil with one hand but held Dex’s hand with the other.

Dex made the mistake of catching Nursey’s gaze. And when he did, Nursey pulled him close, and Dex found himself staring into beautiful pools of green as Derek’s eyes seemed to ask ‘May I?’, which Dex could only answer with a smile.

The kiss was short and chaste but yet filled with something that couldn’t be conveyed with words. And when they broke apart, the silence of the room was broken by a familiar voice saying, “Aww, you guys!” which garnered a few chuckles. He knew Chowder was going to pepper them with questions later, but at least for now, Dex was happy just to sit back and think about the kiss he and Derek had just shared.

After taking his seat, Dex turned and smiled at Nursey, who beamed back at him.

“Well then,” professor Cortano said, quieting the low-level murmur that seemed to spring up from around the room. “This poem is a perfect demonstration of being able to express volumes of emotion with a minimal amount of words. Can anyone else give us an example?”

And as the discussion continued around them, Dex reached over and took Derek’s hand into his own, holding on to a moment they would have for the rest of their lives.


End file.
